and the world crashed around them
by sierrafoxtrot
Summary: Written for the Dumbledore's Army countdown surprise challenge on hpfc. 10: Michael Corner wonders if there's time for one last cigarette. Michael/Luna T


**Written for the Dumbledore's Army countdown surprise challenge on hpfc**

**Is it bad that I now ship Michael/Luna?**

**#7: Michael Corner  
>#18: Luna Lovegood<br>Prompts: Greedy, Distractions  
>Challenge: Must include a surprise and a countdown<br>Word count: 1,984**

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><p>The minutes tick away quietly, sneakily. They dribble like the world is an hourglass with a hole in it; not big enough for the sand to rush out like a tidal wave, but large enough that the speed is too fast for comfort.<p>

_10: Michael Corner wonders if there's time for one last cigarette_

He casts his eyes around the crowded entrance hall, where he is stationed with Terry and Tony. The giant doors to the Great Hall beckon him with iron rusted hinges and he slips away with ease.

(he speculates as to whether it should bother him that he can disappear so easily. It doesn't)

The hall is emptier than he has ever seen it; everyone is already at their posts. He can feel himself being tugged backwards by the urge to be with them, to keep them all safe, but he ignores it studiously. He digs in the pocket of his jeans.

(they really are old and tired; covered in patches and holes. He would replace them, but there's not much point seeing as he's going to die)

Michael realises, as he pulls the box out into the air, removes the cigarette, lights it with the tip of his wand, that he truly is greedy, not to mention selfish. But then, he doesn't dwell. There isn't-

_9: Luna Lovegood watches Michael Corner slip away for one last cigarette_

Time, muses Luna, is a strange thing. Is it subject to change. Could she, for instance, change this action?

And more to the point, should she?

She leaves Neville and Remus Lupin, who are discussing tactics in a manner that suggests they have no hope left at all, and she enters the hall. Her blond hair shines in the moonlight, and her skin is pale from months inside, almost translucent; she looks like a ghost, she thinks, as she spots her reflection in one of the large windows.

"Michael," she says, and he jumps, the light of his cigarette darting towards the ceiling like a firefly. His hands are shaking, she notes, and she feels such a surge of pity that it nearly knocks her off her feet.

(Luna is very observant. People don't give her enough credit)

"Jesus, Luna!" he says, running his free (_shaking_) hand through his dark hair. "I almost cursed you!"

"My mother used to say that people who smoke always have a reason."

Her voice is soft and lilting; he places the cigarette between his lips and inhales. He blows the smoke out and it forms a cloud that drifts lazily in front of them, like a giant monster. She imagines that she can see-

_8: Michael Corner remembers Luna Lovegood_

Memories are fickle things, of course, thinks Michael, with all the logic of a Ravenclaw. They are based on facts that become distorted with time and hindsight. As a consequence, his memories of Luna Lovegood are of a weird girl with a heart of gold, skilfully hidden. She never seemed to notice anything, either the twittering of the girls in her house, who laughed and whispered cruel words behind their hands, or the way that some boys would look at her, their eyes following her graceful progress across the classroom, for instance, or the way she flicked her hair out of her eyes when she was reading.

(not that he was ever one of those boys, of course)

And then this year, when she was strong and calm and beautiful, and she stood up for what was right.

(he always had been skilled at denial)

But then, she was sparkling and bright. She was of glittering blue eyes, the colour of the morning sky, and bright yellow sunflowers, and florescent red-

_7: Luna Lovegood picks some glitter from Michael Corner's hair_

Converse had always been an expression of Luna's personality. Bright and optimistic, she has never believed that she was going to die. Most of all, she doesn't believe that he could ever die. He is so loud, so rebellious, so bright; it would be simply impossible. And impossible is rarely ever in her vocabulary. She sees something glimmer in his hair and she picks it out; it is a speck of glitter, and they both stare at each other. His eyes are a very dark brown, almost indigo, and she can see the world echoed in them.

"You have glitter in your hair."

(Luna never states the obvious)

"Oh. How weird."

(Michael is never uncertain)

Luna feels an urge to justify herself. "Some people think that burbles scatter glitter."

Michael grins and exhales. "What do they do?" he asks, smoke seeping gently from his mouth.

"They spread good luck."

(Luna is also a good liar)

"Do they really?"

(burbles signify death)

"Do you doubt me?"

Michael takes one last inhale, as though he could breathe in the whole thing at once, and then-

_6: Michael Corner finishes his cigarette_

Stamping out an unfinished cigarette, thinks Michael drearily, as he crushes it beneath his Doc Martens, is rather a waste.

"Of course I don't doubt you," he replies, and he meets her eyes. He shudders. "I never doubt you, Luna."

She smiles, and he feels as though he has ceased to think. As a Ravenclaw, he finds this rather worrying.

"I thought Nargles brought good luck," he manages, and he can feel the minutes trickling steadily away, and he wants to hold them still in his fingers.

(but sand slides easily through fingers)

"Nargles," corrects Luna, with dignity, "cause confusion of the mind."

"Confusion of the mind?"

He is grinning, suddenly. Her mind goes numb.

"Yes."

"So how do you know that they're really there, and you're not just thick?" He pauses contemplatively. "Or drunk."

He starts to laugh, and Luna taps him smartly on the arm. The sound is strange in the echoing silence of purgatory.

"Actually," she says, "Nargles quite often cause a-"

_5: Terry Boot bursts in on the scene_

Bang! goes the door, and Michael and Luna both jump this time. He has never seen her surprised before; her face flushes and her eyes spark, for a second, before returning to their usual serenity. It is Terry; his face is stiffly calm. Michael can see the panic behind his eyes.

"Mike, for Merlin's sake-" his eyes flick to Luna, and Michael realises that they are standing so close that he can count the delicate freckles that have been scattered across the bridge of her nose. He stumbles backwards, and crashes into a table.

"Elegant," remarks Terry dryly. "Hi, Luna. I don't suppose you two have realised that there's a war about to start, have you?"

"I was having a cigarette," says Michael, but even he can recognise that this was slightly idiotic. Terry raises one pale eyebrow, glances between them, and grins. It is unexpectedly wicked.

"Of course you were."

"I was!" he protests, then Luna interrupts.

"I don't suppose that Ginny's been let out of the Room of Requirement, yet?" she questions. Michael sends her a grateful look, and she flicks him on the wrist. Her nails are surprisingly sharp and cold, it distracts him.

_4: Luna Lovegood realises something_

"No," says Terry. "No, she hasn't. I hear she's climbing the walls."

And then, with a jolt of something approaching horror, Luna realises something. She sees the beginnings of the flashes outside, and she grabs at his arm in desperation.

"Michael, it's-"

_3: The air is rent apart_

"-starting!"

And then it all explodes. It's like the world has suddenly had enough; the walls crack, the floor shakes and crumbles, and the beautiful, centuries old windows implode towards the three teenagers. The glass is scattered over them like the glitter that was in his hair.

Michael acts quickly. He launches himself at her, catches her around the waist, pulls her to the floor. They land under the Gryffindor table (ironic, no?) and he tries to take most of the fall.

(he always was too chivalrous, she thinks)

As a consequence, she is on top of him as he tries to suck air into his lungs; the fall has pushed all of the oxygen out. He gasps like a fish out of water and Luna tries to shift away, but he pulls her back. His arms are around her, and her hair falls into his face.

(she feels safe in the midst of the madness)

A curse shoots over the table, but for the moment they are hidden from view.

"Stay," Michael says. And then-

_2: Michael Corner kisses Luna Lovegood_

He kisses her, and it's like fire. Because Luna's always been water, it is alien to her, but she pulls him closer, presses herself against him, tangles her hands in his hair, and she feels rather than hears him groan.

(she wonders if the Nargles have affected her too)

She certainly can't think of anything, let alone the danger they're in, and for a Ravenclaw this sudden loss of a functional brain is terrifying, like having the rug pulled from under her feet. But she doesn't think about this (or, indeed, anything), she is far to occupied with the feeling of his lips on hers, and of the steady burning in her veins.

And then he pulls away, and he is going to say something, but the table is shot away from them, and they are on their feet before he can, wands out, and although she is still breathing hard, her heart beating in her chest like a trapped bird, she still feels the kick of adrenaline-

_1: Antonin Dolohov makes his move_

When Michael looks at Luna, he sees the world (his world).

But he would have the world of time to tell her, wouldn't he?

Adrenaline rushing through his veins like the desire only seconds previously, he spins and ducks like a dancer, light on his feet like a cat. He has trained for this, worked for this, longed for this, and the multi-coloured shots of spells is like a lightshow for their benefit alone.

And then…

And then, there is simply the unthinking swish and flick of a wand, held in a hand that is connected to a man with a long thin face and murder in his eyes. The movement is as innocent as when the eleven year olds in Flitwick's class would cast their levitating charms, and Michael Corner's feather floated up to the ceiling first.

And it does, in fact, feel like floating. For an absurd second he wonders if the Death Eater has simply made a mistake.

And then…

And then he crumples, and Luna Lovegood freezes as he is outlined in green light, his features for one second completely calm.

But he is so loud, so rebellious, so bright that it is impossible.

(and impossible is rarely ever in her vocabulary)

(but now, it seems, it is)

_0: Luna Lovegood is of darkness and shadows and ash_

The problem is, thinks Luna, that he never got to say to her…whatever he was going to say. And she would be forever consumed with curiosity.

Although at this point, the pain in her heart outweighs any other feeling that may be trying to nudge its way in.

Luna crouches by the body. It was not collected in the ceasefire; even Terry, alive but wounded, had not come and fetched him. His best friend, almost mad with grief, hadn't been able to bear it. He is beautiful, like a statue that has fallen into disrepair, still perfect, frozen in time. She brushes the hair from his forehead, and her hand comes away, covered in a layer of ash. In fact, the whole of the world is covered in ash.

Her eyes hold neither spark nor serenity. They are shuttered and hard.

And in that moment, Luna Lovegood doesn't believe in Nargles, or burbles, or Crumple-Horned Snorckacks, or Ringwraiths, or anything at all, in fact.

(she is of darkness and ash and shadows)

(it is a while until her broken heart heals)

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><p><strong>Reviews are me <strong>_**not**_** killing Michael Corner off in one of my stories. **

**(that doesn't happen very often)**

**(which is odd, considering how much I love him)**

**Much love,**

**Eliza xxx**


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